Not going to give much of an intro for this since it'll probably ruin the story, but please enjoy.
He gently picked up the body that had just gone limp. For how long he held him, he had no idea. His perception of time eluded him as he stared at his fallen friend. Somehow, it hadn't been Decepticons that had been his demise. No, this amazing little organic had outlasted the Decepticons' attempt at assassination and had instead fallen victim to a more mundane foe: old age.
Autobots were built to last for centuries, and while for a while it seemed that the human was near un-aging, eventually the signs appeared. Wrinkles here or there; the stoop of the back; his now slow strides. Ratchet had said that this would happen, but the big yellow Camaro had somehow denied this truth. He had thought that perhaps the All Spark fragment had imbued a kind of agelessness, but that hope was dashed the day Bee noticed that Sam's skin was not as it once was and Sam at times would show signs of memory loss, which grieved Bee deeply.
What are you without your memories?
And what happens to the ones that are forgotten?
For a long time then Bee had hoped that, while Sam wasn't young anymore, he would at least last much longer than other humans. And in a way he had. Sam lived a very long life; had lived to the good age of ninety-three. But to Bee that was barely long enough to be considered a year on Cybertron. Bee was older than most of the stars in Sam's solar quadrant. And yet when the day finally came that the brave, amazing human he had guarded passed on, he was surprisingly quiet.
The other Autobots grieved in their own ways. Ironhide had held a gun salute. Ratchet worked diligently on cures for human diseases. But of the others, perhaps Optimus gave the most bittersweet gift. Optimus had gathered the other Autobot leaders and, with their agreement, had decreed that Sam was an honorary Prime. The Matrix had been entrusted to him, so it was undeniable he was worthy of the title.
Bee sat alone for the longest time, and yet he couldn't think of what to do. Should he let his friend go, or was there another way? How could he leave behind the person he'd considered his closest friend and a trusted fellow soldier? A thought stole into his processor slowly, like it was a whisper filtered through the breeze rather than a thought of his own.
Slowly, carefully, he laid the now cold body down. Coming down close, he began the concert that would go on through the night and into the afternoon of the next day. Songs that they had listened to when they were cruising. Songs that Sam had introduced Bee to. Songs that had been their victory anthems after another successful battle with the Decepticons. They weren't necessarily traditional funeral songs, but that didn't really matter. The songs had been special to the both of them when Sam was alive, and that was a good enough reason for them to be his requiem.
I felt a weird feeling as I sat down at my computer, so I turned on word processor and let it work itself out into a story. I find this a little sad, but not exactly in a crying way. You know how after you lose someone and you're starting to cope, you sometimes do something that reminds you of them, but in a pleasant sort of way? Like you're sharing that moment with them? That's kind of what I feel like after writing this. Anyways, please review and tell me what you think.